


Snapshot

by crimsonclad



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:39:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonclad/pseuds/crimsonclad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan and Veronica, later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshot

**Author's Note:**

> Originally found here: http://crimsonclad.livejournal.com/73971.html

LA braced itself when Logan Echolls graduated from his no-name small-town college and bought a house in the Hollywood Hills. Finally, some fresh blood for the gossip pages, the nightclubs, the inevitable cokefests and drama that always happened when spoiled kids with too much money and no parents to speak of decided to spend their time with each other instead of real people. Everyone remembered Aaron's trial, his acquittal, his murder, and the evidence afterward that proved he had done it after all.

And Logan himself, what a gold mine-- the battered child of a movie star, the organizer of bumfights, the rich boy twice orphaned. He had even gone through his own murder trial, so it seemed a safe bet he would turn out to be his father's son in all the ways that mattered.

The paparazzi were naturally disappointed when, after camping outside of all the hottest nightclubs for a month, there had still been no sightings of Logan Echolls at all. He wasn't making out with second rate models at The Viper Room, he wasn't getting into fights with sitcom actors at Shag.

Some girl on Gawker claimed to have seen him at a Target on Whittier, but that didn't make much sense, seeing as how the combination of his various inheritances and one seriously lucrative defamation suit meant that he had more money than movie stars twice his age. Not to mention, of course, that his father's residual checks were now deposited directly into Logan's own bank account. All in all, he should have been dying to burn through some serious cash, so it didn't really make much sense that he was nowhere to be seen.

**

"Seriously, you know that we can order this stuff online, right? Target has a website. I checked."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Logan, then we'd have to pay shipping. Plus, we wouldn't be having this much fun looking at all the choices!"

He eyed her skeptically. "We're looking at laundry detergent."

Veronica sighed ecstatically and fluttered her eyelashes. "I know. It's like Christmas!"

"Also, another thing to recommend shopping online? You can do it naked. That's right. Naked." He picked up a Downy ball and inspected it carefully. "I offered to hire a housekeeper, but no, you apparently like doing your own laundry, even though I've told you time and again that we can just buy you new clothes after the old ones start to smell--"

Veronica smacked him on the shoulder with a box of generic brand dryer sheets. "You don't understand the magic of having a washer and dryer _in our house_ , Logan. I don't have to walk outside or ride an elevator or anything. Besides, I know our track record. We'd hire a housekeeper and she'd end up being a Scandinavian assassin and drug mule, or something. You might be into that, but I just want to wash my own underpants."

"Which doesn't really address my all-too salient point, vis-a-vis nudity--"

"Please, if I tried to shop naked, you'd let me buy one box of Kleenex and then haul me off to bed before I had a chance to put in my credit card. Also, p.s., we're in Target. Leave your fancy English major speak at home, okay?"

"I'll have you know that my senior thesis about Tess of the D'urbervilles was not only awarded a grade of A, I was also honored to receive--"

"--a mark of distinction on the Senior Thesis project, I know, everyone knows. You're very smart when you aren't committing crimes. Maybe then, too."

Logan threw some sort of scrubby brush into their cart. "Especially then. But my old lady made me kick the habit."

Veronica squinted at the brush. "Is that-- for grout? Logan, do you even know what grout is?"

He gestured expansively. "We are buying things for the house, and I am helping. Look at that brush! Definitely for the house. And if it becomes old and worn out? Probably available online."

"God, Logan! It isn't my fault that you're agoraphobic, so suck it up! Come on, I want a new spatula."

As she steered their cart around a display of vacuum cleaners, he noticed a girl staring at him from the shelving aisle. He waved merrily.

**

There was a brief frenzy when Logan was spied around lunchtime at The Ivy with Conner Larkin. Maybe this was his entré into the world of celebrity social life!

Sources inside the restaurant, however, were unable to offer any remotely interesting details about the meal. Logan and Conner were sitting with a blonde girl and a handsome hispanic man who no one recognized. They left a generous tip, and exited quietly out the back.

**

As soon as their waitress left, Veronica glared at Conner. "This is your idea of a discreet location?"

He sighed. "Look, here, at least there are other people for the paparazzi to care about. If we had gone to Ruby Tuesday's in Anaheim, it would have looked a lot more suspicious. Trust me."

"Well, since I'm such a trusting person--"

Both Weevil and Logan snorted, and Veronica stabbed Logan with her fork. "No editorial comments, please!"

"Hey! Why doesn't Weevil get stabbed?"

"It isn't his job to defend my honor, jackass."

Logan hid behind his menu with a pout. "Not fair."

Veronica handed Conner a flowered gift bag tied with curly, silver ribbon. "There you go. The guy trying to out you? Turns out he has an ex-wife back in Illinois, and after a chat about his chronic tardiness in paying child support and my willingness to turn his dossier of stripper girlfriends over to the press if he tries anything, he's going to pursue more gainful means of employment to support his son."

"I'm so in love with you right now," he said fervently, ignoring both Weevil and Logan's indignant cries of 'hey!'.

"Normally you'd get a manila folder, like everyone else," she explained. "But since we had to meet in the most public location in all of LA..."

Conner patted his present lovingly. "I'll treasure it always."

"How did he find out about you guys, anyway? You're usually so discreet."

Conner flushed, and even Weevil momentarily lost some of his customary aplomb. Conner fiddled with his napkin. "Oh, well, it was just this one time--"

"--because Conner found out I'd be working for the studio--"

"--celebratory dinner--"

"--men's bathroom, so."

Veronica turned to look at Logan. "Why don't we ever have crazy public sex in men's bathrooms? God, the things I've given up for you."

"Don't give me that! Boy in the girl's bathroom! That's our _thing_! You can't go changing things up at this stage of the game, you know. Next thing you'll be wanting to sleep on my side of the bed, use my toothbrush--"

"Logan, you know perfectly well that the girl's bathroom is for making out. If Conner says that the men's room is for sex, then I really think we ought to listen to him. Do you want to be embarrassed by our country mouse ways?"

Logan pointedly ignored her. "So, Eli, are you doing stunt driving these days, or helping to soup up special effects cars?"

Weevil raised an eyebrow but seemed game enough. "Mostly in the studio garage, yeah, although I've done some driving. Conner doesn't like me doing stunts, though."

"Well, I don't do any of my own stunts, and you shouldn't have to do anyone else's either! Of all the ways in the world to die, is pretending to be Vin Diesel really the way you want to go?"

Weevil smirked. "What can I say? They like the way I ride a bike."

Conner blinked, and Veronica leaned in to whisper loudly in Logan's ear. "That's called innuendo."

He nodded. "I see, yes. Should we leave them alone? Meet me in the men's room."

She stabbed him again, but only with a butter knife. He smiled winningly.

**

Vanity Fair contacted Logan's publicist in the hopes of setting up an interview (maybe even the cover!) about his life in the public eye, the pain of losing both parents with the world watching.

They were informed that Mr. Echolls did not give interviews.

"Well, then why does he have a publicist?" a VF staffer asked crossly, and Jackie laughed.

"Mostly to avoid calls like this one, actually."

**

Veronica had thought she'd have to find a new career, initially, because Logan was so well known that she was bound to lose some of her valuable anonymity.

But it turned out that being the person who stands _next_ to a famous person makes you almost more invisible, but in a familiar way that gets people talking without them really knowing why. And it wasn't like LA had _less_ corruption than Neptune, so it all turned out rather well.

They were on the dance floor, and Veronica adjusted her earpiece while pretending to fix her earring. "Okay, he's down in the wine cellar. Shouldn't be too long before he takes the bait."

Logan smoothed a hand down her bare back. "This is a pretty dress. You know, once in a while, maybe we should go out just to go out, and not to catch adulterous has been soap stars."

Veronica looked up at him. "You have the oddest notions, sometimes."

"You're right. Calling in favors from my investors to abuse their dinner parties for surveillance purposes is pretty romantic."

"Logan." Veronica wound her fingers through his hair and looked deep into his eyes. "You hate going out, remember? Because people stare at you?"

"No, I hate going out because people stare at you. Not too surprising, look at you shake that ass!"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, all the fifty year old men are really--" she looked out of the corner of her eye, and then turned back to Logan in horror. "Oh my god, they _are_. Ew!"

 _Okay, Marshmallow, this is Papa Bear,_ Wallace's voice said in her ear. _The cheating hearts party is getting ready to start down here._

"Twirl me," Veronica suggested, and Logan complied easily, dipping her with a smile just as the song ended. "I have to head downstairs. When we get home we can read through those transcripts I got today, okay?"

Logan stood her up and kissed her once, lightly. "Ah, romance."

"Jeez, fine, we'll read the transcripts and I'll give you a blowjob. You're so demanding."

 _I did NOT need to hear that! Dang!_ Wallace hissed, and Veronica headed for the stairs.

**

Maybe he somehow had friends in the mayor's office. There was no telling how it happened, but by the time the tabloids found out that Logan Echolls was already married, a year had passed, and it was hard to make that news sound like much of a scoop.

And it wasn't even like they could claim that he got married in secret-- because there had been guests, the couple had a sweet little ceremony. He didn't marry a model, even, just some high school girlfriend who he dated through college. She testified in his dad's murder case, fine, but there was nothing there, just people who knew each other and got married.

Even running the photos was embarrassing, because they were all date stamped (not even digital, seriously) so far in the past that it just looked stupid. Some guy named Vinnie Van Lowe took them, and he'd had the scans up on his website as his "wedding photography portfolio" the whole time. Logan Echolls in a suit, this Veronica girl in a pretty, wispy dress, nothing gaudy, nothing to tell. Dick Casablancas was there as best man, which was something, but he just looked wide eyed in all the pictures-- and worse, refused to comment when they called him. No comments from the entire guest list, which was just ridiculous-- from the officiant who was just some hack lawyer to a sweet girl named Hannah who sounded kind of wistful as she apologized and hung up-- it was like they all knew better, which was ridiculous. Only celebrities knew better, and these people were just regular old nobodies.

***

Veronica got home to find Logan making stir fry, and she grinned as she hopped up on the counter. "You're the best little woman I could have ever asked for. Will there be vacuuming in pearls later?"

"Of course. Just make sure you don't come home tomorrow during the day-- the meter man will be 'visiting'." He leaned in for a kiss, tasting like soy sauce.

"Okay, but if you have a baby and it looks like him, I'm gonna stop buying you furs."

He nipped at her earlobe and then turned back to the stove. "Any progress on the O'Donnell case?"

She opened the cabinet beside her to get down some plates. "Yeah, you should have seen Mac-- she hacked into his website so easy I thought she was going to cry. She complains that she doesn't think she's earning her paycheck."

"Then make her dust around the office. That should cure her boredom."

"Right, I could, except she knows where I keep the taser. And anyway, she technically works for my dad, not me. It isn't my job to make sure she earns her salary."

Logan dished up some rice. "Hey, you run the satellite office. If that doesn't give you the right to make her perform bizarre and unnecessary tasks, then I think you should complain to the President."

Pouring two glasses of wine, Veronica headed over to the kitchen table. "Yeah, hey, he called to say he's going to be in town next week. I told him he could stay here, unless you have any objections. His penetrating and eerily psychic gaze not being one of them."

"I have some meetings here on Wednesday, but it's just Casey and some guys from his Board of Directors. I'm sure they've all seen your dad in his underwear anyway."

"What endangered animals are you saving this week?"

Logan spooned stir-fry onto both their plates and pressed a kiss into her hair. "The Gant-Echolls partnership is working on early childhood education at the moment. So, um, innocent and carefree kindergartners?"

"That doesn't sound so early. I was already quoting Dorothy Parker by kindergarten. By first grade? Killed a man to watch him die."

"Not everyone can be as precocious as you, you know. Now come on, eat your dinner. If you clean your plate, I'll reward you with twisted and deviant sexual favors. And maybe a cookie."

Veronica twirled her fork in the air. "I love cookies!"

Logan grinned, bright, happy. "I know you do."


End file.
